Under the Bridge
by Loutzy
Summary: Badboy!Blaine. Blaine and Kurt have known each other for years now, and the unsolved romantic tension has brought New Directions and the Warblers to one last resort - an operation to get them together. Oh, and Kurofsky is at Dalton. Romance/Angst/Humor.
1. Step One: Killing the Sleeping System

_**The one and only DISCLAIMER for this story: the author of the fan fiction does not, in any way, profit from the story and all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s). The plot and written works is © of LeToast. All else belongs to their rightful owners. Any brand, name or else belongs to rightful owners.**_

_Tumblr: sexgustin . tumblr . com_

**Step One - Part One: Killing the Sleeping System**

**(Finn/David POV)**

**-X- SEPTEMBER –X-**

"It's killing me, guys!" Puck exclaimed as he circled a couch. We were in the Ploceidae commons room discussing… _personal_ issues. Okay, so maybe we were stepping into other's personal lives and we're totally out of line. So, shoot me. They had to solve the unneeded romantic tension and we, cupid's elves, were open for business.

Santa had elves, so why can't cupid have any, right? I mean, come on, he's just a baby. Granted, a baby who could fly, but he didn't even know how to use a potty! Who was this kid's dad and how could he not teach him the basics?

"- and they sat there for at least an hour on the couch in the common's room, blushing with their coffees in hand. It was so…" Wes was a tad confused for a moment before his face lit up, finally finding the word he needed, "awkward."

Okay, so you might be wondering why the guys of New Directions are paying a visit to the Dalton Academy Warblers. Let's take a visit with Puckerman on what brought us here.

_Okay, so Kurt was being harassed at McKinley in grade nine by a jerk ass named Kurofsky for being gay, when it turned out that Kurofsky could've been a flaming homo himself._

Wait, Puck, you can't just say stuff like that. It could hurt someone's feelings!

_Dude, the Puckasaurus gets to say whatever he wants. I'm a total badass.  
>Anyways, Kurt transferred to Dalton Academy after being placed there as a spy. Guess who made him do that?<em>

Bro, stop talking about my girlfriend like that and get to the point!

_Chill, Finn; from one Jew to another, I have to be nice. And she's not your girlfriend anymore, remember?_

Puck!

_Okay, okay! So, for the past three years him and Blaine has had unsolved sexual tension –_

That's my brother!

_- And if I was Blaine, I would've tapped that by now. But no one has as much charm as Puckzilla. And that's what you missed on Glee!_

"Bro," Artie looked at me, eyebrows furrowing, "were you even paying attention?"

"Sorry; not too interested in my baby brother's love life," I huffed, blushing a tad. Okay, that was a lie. It's totally interesting when you hear stories about him and Blaine with their almost kisses or almost hand holding. Finally, I could get away from my own girl troubles and be concerned for my baby brother's… Guy troubles, that is.

"Seriously though," Nick looked bewildered, creating a conclusion, "we need to get them together."

"As soon as possible," Jeff commented alongside his best friend, finishing his thoughts as though they were twins.

-x-

"And how are we going to do that?" Mercedes eyebrows shot up in fascination- or what it pure amusement? _Oh._

"Operation Klainebows." Puck and I said simultaneously, and then fist bumped in approval.

Kurt has always been looking for love, which kind of adds to the irony of him being gay. Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against gays, it's just ten times harder for them to find love and the acceptance _to_ love. He says it's just the 'Broadway' part of him taking over and that it's 'no big deal' but, as a brother, I know he needs to feel loved for once. Actually, as a human being, I know he needs to feel loved for once.

And that's where Operation Klainebows comes into play.

Tomorrow is the first day of school and the plan has already begun.

-x-

"Shh!" A voice came from the Warblers surrounding me as we opened the door to the Dean's office.

Step one: Killing the Sleeping System. Nick made the name, not me.

It was two in the morning and everyone was dressed in black. Let's just say that we're breaking _a lot_ of rules by doing this. Which could cause possible suspension – they might ever expel us for doing what we are trying to accomplish. If we screw up, it's our heads.  
><em>Totally<em> worth it.

"David, _go_!" Wes said in somewhat of a stage whisper, shoving me towards the computer sitting on the Dean's desk. Grabbing the Apple laptop, I pulled it under the desk with me, turning it on in the process. The start-up menu loads with a small 'bum-ba-da' in the key of F. I'm paying too much attention in music class. I dragged the mouse across the screen, clicking on the small icon in the center of the screen, labeled 'Dean Walter'.

_Password._

Password? Shit! Why hadn't I thought of this?

"Guys, there's a pass-" but I was cut off by the sound of keys jingling, unlocking the door to the Dean's room – the room we were in.

"Hide!" I heard Wes whisper in volume, and feet scramble. As rapidly as I possibly could, I placed the computer on the desk and hid under it. Suddenly, a crash was made.

"Save yourself, Nick!" Jeff's voice was above whisper and I smacked my face in something that almost felt like humiliation. We are the worst spy-like group of teenagers I've ever seen.

"You're too young!"

"Get your asses over here, _now_." Thad snapped and I heard another scramble of feet. Hooligans. A creak of the door sounded someone's entry. Instantly, my heart stopped.

"Umph," A groggily sound was made as the Dean came into the room. I could hear the footsteps coming closer. Finally, a pair of loafers came into view, sitting in the chair with wheels and pulling up severely close to me, "Must've left my computer on," The deep, powerful voice spoke to himself, and then came the sound of typing. The start-up music played again, telling us that he had logged in. I heard a shuffle of plants and in a quick motion the Dean snapped his head towards the plant in suspicion.

_We're screwed._

"Mr. Walter," A voice came in speaker from the phone on his desk.

_Or not._

"Yes?" The Dean asked after reaching over and holding, what I assumed to be, a button that allows you to reply.

"You're needed in the main office. Another accident in the Motacillia science lab." The nasally voice informed him and without another word, he gets up and as soon as we hear the door click shut, sighs of relief fill the room.

_Success._

Hurrying to my feet, I sit on the leather chair and crack my knuckles. This is going to be easier than I suspected.

Dragging the mouse over, I clicked on the 'dorm set-up' link and scrolled down to 'Ploceidae'.

**Room 77: Hummel, Kurt  
>Nixon, Trent<strong>

"Trent," I laughed, "You were supposed to room with Kurt."

"Please don't put me with someone annoying." He begged.

"Now you're rooming with Thad." I smirked deviously.

"No! Anyone but him!"

"Hey, you'll have loads of fun with me." Thad glared at Trent. _Suckers._

**Room 77; Hummel, Kurt  
>Anderson, Blaine<strong>

Beautiful.

**Step One – Part Two: Flashbacks and Comebacks**

**(Kurt POV)**

**-X- SEPTEMBER –X-**

"Dad, hurry up! I have to get to school!" I screamed up the stairs. Today was the first day of school at Dalton Academy and we all had to get there extra early to bring in our essentials when boarding there. Essentials for everyone else means clothes, toothbrush, toothpaste and maybe a few pictures of family. Essentials for myself – myself being _the_ Kurt Hummel – means my face cleansing regime, a hair dryer, my own bedding (hey, you don't know whose slept in that bed last. Or what they did in there), hair products, toothbrush, toothpaste and clothes. Lots and lots of clothes.

My dad came rushing down the stairs in his plaid pajamas, keys in hand.

"Where's the luggage?" he asked, looking around.

"In the car already, no need to worry." I smiled with brightness as my dad raised his eyebrows. I gaped enthusiastically, "What, just because I'm gay I can't carry luggage?" A sudden snort came from the living room where Finn was fast asleep. My dad looked on in confusion, "Okay, so maybe I got Finn to do it…"

The car ride there was uneventful, as my dad talked about the odds of the Pittsburg Steelers against the Dallas Cowboys, and I talked about Lady Gaga's new fashion line, "Monsters." Neither of us was really interested in what the other had to say. Hey, at least we have something in common there.

Once all the bags (and by all, I mean two full luggage and one carry on) were out of the trunk, my dad gave me a hug, in reminder that he loves me.

"Err," he started, "just in case, I snuck the pamphlets in your suitcase," my dad explained as he cleared his throat awkwardly, looking away. With my lips in a tight line to stop myself from blushing even harder, I simply nodded. Explaining to my dad that I will not, in fact, be having sex at all would make it worse than it already is.

I watched as he drove off and as soon as he was out of sight, I pick up my baggage and headed towards the common room. I'm really thankful to have a dad as easygoing as he is about this situation; and even if he's not, he tries to be, and in the end, that's all that really matters.

As soon as I got to the common room, angelic smirks were being thrown at me from all corners.

Okay, what the hell's going on here?

Setting my luggage down and trying to avoid all looks possible in the process, I walked over to the dorm room list where probably half of the fellow Ashford residents were. Seeing me, Jeff tapped Nick on the shoulder and they told everyone, with a simple yell, "Move!"

If I didn't think they were hiding something, I would've said thank you.

Walking through the crowd, I noticed Blaine hadn't shown up yet. _At least it'll give me time to unpack_, I thought inwardly. Looking down the list was the most nerve wracking part. What if I got stuck with someone I didn't like? What if I got stuck with someone who had a bad taste in style – no style at all? Or worse. What if I got stuck with…

_Blaine._

**Room 77; Hummel, Kurt  
>Anderson, Blaine<strong>

Fuck.

Feeling a pair of arms grabbing both of my own arms, I instantly know who had captured me.

"So, how do you like your roommate?" Jeff started. I could almost hear the smirk in his voice.

"Are his eyebrows triangular enough for you? Is his style tasteful to your liking?" Nick asked, playing along with Jeff. He suddenly gasped dramatically, pulling his hands away from me and putting them to his mouth, "Do you not like him?"

Snickering, Jeff replied for me, a huge grin working on his face, "Oh, I think we all know disliking Blaine is out of the question for Kurt."

Blaine Anderson. How can I explain such a person? He's my best friend. My best friend that I'm in love with. My best friend that I'm in love with who is capital G-A-Y. He's stood by me through all of my rough patched and has my heart in the palm of his hand. He saved my life, and it seems as if everyone knew about my love for him; everyone _but_ him. So, when I saw that we were to room together for the year, it caught me off guard. Rooming with him meant sharing the same bathroom. It meant sharing the same studying space – no work was getting done this year. It meant my feelings growing stronger… Oh, _crap._

What the hell am I supposed to do?

"Speaking of the sex god, there he is now." Nick barked with laughter and I turned around to see Blaine walking down the hallway. Over the years, Blaine has changed quite a bit. He's just grown a little more macho since grade nine – a little stubble, stronger jaw bone, more muscular body- and to add on to that, he's become well known for his hardened personality. I mean, I can still see the dapper shine through his bad boy ways and I'll always notice his crazy mismatched socks he's pulled into every outfit, but his fashion sense has gotten a little rougher during the past two years with leather jackets and the recreational smoking habits. He only smokes once in a while, but not to the point of addiction. Yeah, at first I was worried for him, but after some time, it didn't seem so bad. It kind of attracted me more.

I don't know what changed him from the dapper boy to the rough man I know today. Puberty? Experimentation with fashion? Well, whatever it was, he seems to enjoy being the pack leader – the popular boy of the school. And if he's happy, I'm happy.

What? No, no. Me being happy has nothing to do with the fact that he's ten times attractive as he was two years ago, or the fact that he can only get more attractive with time. Not at all.

With a stressed look on his face, he rushed down the hall towards us… and then he clapped eyes with me. His facial expressions were hard to understand, but in the end, it was in somewhat of a surprised look. Why would he feel surprised?

Quickly re-evaluating himself, he put on his cool and collected face, slowing down as he walked directly towards me. As soon as he reached us, Jeff let go of my other arm and Blaine embraced me in a hug. Feeling his hands wrap around my waist, I sighed in contentment. I missed his arms. As I let go of my best friend, everyone was sniggering to a great extent.

Way to be obvious, guys.

Dalton Academy used to be known for its zero tolerance of bullying, but through the years, it slowly died down because, really, they wouldn't enforce the rule. And then, they just stopped stating the rule to parents at parent teacher interviews. It's just an all boys' boarding school dedicated to programs, now. But the Warblers are all cool with me being gay. Actually, they seem supportive of it, and I couldn't be any happier.

"Kurt," he started, breathlessly, "I missed you so much!" As everyone around us seem to make things awkward by laughing (at what?) a thought seemed to have hit Blaine, "Oh! Who are you all rooming with?"

"Well," Wes giggled in a girl like manner, "I'm rooming with David."

"I'm rooming with Nick," Jeff explained,

"And I'm rooming with Thad…" Trent grumbled, semi upset because of this factor, making me giggle. Until Blaine looked at me expectantly.

Gathering as much courage as I possibly can, I spoke, "You." It came out as a croak. Damn it.

"Come again?" Blaine asked, eyebrows furrowing together in confusion.

"I'm rooming with you." I said again after clearing my throat. As soon as the thought got through to him, his eyes widened. Why did they widen? Was he surprised or upset? Scared? What if he was afraid?

_Kurt, calm down. You're looking into it way too much. You were afraid when checking the list too, remember?_

"That's…" Blaine looked directly at me, a smile growing on his face. Thank whoever is out there, because I was about to faint, "Amazing! This is going to be the best year ever!" he exclaimed, joy bursting out of him, "We should get to it, then! What room are we in, again?" Just as I was about to answer, I was cut off by two other voices.

"Room 77," David and Wes said matter-of-factly, high fiving each other in laughter.

The room numbers were just released – not even I remembered our own room number without having to think. What the hell are they up to? As I grabbed one of my bags (after I insisted on bringing it, myself, might I add - what a gentlemen), Blaine motioned for me to follow him to our new dorm room that we shared together.

As soon as we got there, he placed my bag on the bed to the right of the room. A dorm room is like a locker; it starts off like every other locker on the same level of décor, but as time goes on, you add to it and it becomes your own. So, right now, our dorm looked like I had left my old dorm room – lifeless and simple. Time to break out your pallets, Hummel.

"Score," he smiled walking over to a door, "we got one of the few bedrooms with an ensuite bathroom!" Looks like my pallets will have a cousin.

"I'm so tired," I said, yawning, as I fell on the bed with one of my bags on it. Blaine snickered, amused by this.

"Too bad we have to get to breakfast." He stated, grabbing my hand to help me off the bed. I gladly took it and hopped off the bed. I opened my messenger bag to grab a granola bar and a few books for the next class, than slung the bag around my shoulder. Opening the door, Blaine led me outside to the halls. As I nibbled on the nutritious snack, I noticed most of the Warblers crowded around Wesley holding a phone, quietly giggling to themselves.

… I don't even want to know.

"So, what do you have first period?" Blaine started up conversation. I was caught off guard by a student giving me a disapproving look. We're in Ohio, what do you expect? When Blaine noticed this, he shot a glare to the student (Who, when saw Blaine, quickly stopped and started walking in the other direction), then turned back to me with the usual warm smile on his face.

"Mathematics Ac."

"With Mr. Williams?" he asked, brightening up.

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

"Here, pass me your schedule." He said as I grabbed it out of the front pocket of my bag, placing it in his hands. He pulled his own out and motioned for me to sit with him on the staircase where we first met.

_-X- Flashback –X-_

This is so stupid. Why the hell am I doing this? If they burn my perfectly done eyebrows off, I'll have to compromise with Rachel's eyebrows since she's the one making me do this, and they're not half as good as mine are.

First, I'm not even in proper uniform, that's a dead giveaway. Second, no one will recognize me and, trust me, everyone seems to separate me from the rest of the group. Some see it as a gift, others see it as a talent, I see it as a curse. And last, I have the appearance of a six year old with a striking sense of fashion. The other day, one of my new teachers mistook me for a girl.

Someone, anyone, get me out of here.

Gripping onto the strap of my Marc Jacob's leather messenger bag, I entered the building.

Crap, it's even fancier on the inside. I swear, it looks like a golf and country club. It must cost a fortune to board here –

"Hey," I stiffened as a blonde male passed me by, clapping me on the shoulder with a warm smile on his face. Maybe I'm not as obvious – Wait. It seems a little _too_ perfect here. Maybe I shouldn't keep my thoughts so organized in case someone can hear them. I laughed at myself. That's impossible, Kurt… I think.

As I continued down the hall, I noticed people only got friendlier – with the occasional glance or two – and I had to remind myself not to flinch every time a hand flew my way to shake or give me a high five. After countless (and, might I add, quite attractive) guys, I found myself on the fourth and final floor of Dalton Academy. Lost in a school. _How original, minor niner. _I'm blaming it on the guys, really. What was this, some sort of cute gay haven? Because, really, some of them were so flamboyant and outgoing, it was hard not to assume so. Fendi black shoes squeaking against the wooden floor, I found myself walking down a grand staircase in need of assistance. Where the hell is this Warbler meeting? And how big is this school, anyways? Taking off my D&G glasses, fed up with myself, I stopped someone to ask.

"Excuse me," I said, and as a boy with black, gelled back hair turned around, I felt the wind being gusted out of me. His eyes. His face… Focus, Kurt, "Can I ask you a question? Uh I, I'm new here." I stuttered. Damn it, pull yourself together.

Smiling and looking away for a second, he held out his hand to shake it. "My name's Blaine."

Bewildered, I took his hand, smiling warmly, "Kurt." Trying to look as innocent as possible, I looked around, confused, "So, what exactly is going on?"

"The Warblers. Every now and then they throw in a performance in the senior commons. Tends to shut the school down for a while."

"So, wait, the Glee club here is kinda cool?" I asked, squinting my eyes a tad. This school is _way_ too good to be true if that's the case.

"The Warblers are like, Rockstars. Come on," He took my hand in his, causing me to gasp in surprise. "I know a short cut." Walking with him caused eyes to wonder towards me, in question as to who I was. I don't even know, myself. Attracting hot guys to hold my hand? Definitely not Kurt Hummel.

"So," I started, after we slowed our pace, "What's it like here?"

"Amazing. You have to audition to get into this school, as you know already," he winked at me. _Oh Gucci, he definitely knows I'm not an actual student here. _"it's a school of programs, really. The houses are named after bird species to do with what area you want to be in when you're older and have decided." Nodding in somewhat understanding, we got to our destination. The double doors slowly opened to reveal students moving around furniture (I guess for the Warblers meeting?) and I noticed everyone in perfect uniform.

"Oh, I stick out like a sore thumb." I said, looking around me. When my eyes landed back on Blaine, I smiled.

"Well, next time don't forget your jacket, new kid." He fixed my jacket collar, winking at me. "You'll fit right in."

_-X- Flashback End –X-_

"Kurt," Blaine smiled up at me, "We have first and third period together. And, lunch, of course." He smiled getting up. I held my hand up so he could help me up. Okay, so I really don't need help, I just wanted to hold his hand. Is that so bad?

"Oh no. Half of my day with Blaine? The horror." I giggled sarcastically, allowing him to take the lead to the cafeteria for breakfast. Walking through the halls, I noticed people make way for us. Well, for Blaine.

"Homo." Oh. That would be the first time I heard someone say that in a while. A hand reached out to smack the books that I had out of my hands. A few seconds later, I flew to the ground with them, under the impact of a body being smashed into me. My heart crumbled for the first time in a year.

Looking up, I saw him.

Kurofsky.

Blaine snapped his head towards the grunt of disapproval to see Kurofsky standing a good couple inches taller than him. His face was rough and, to tell you the truth, he hadn't changed much. Which makes it even worse.

That's the face that had haunted my dreams for months after transferring.

As soon as Blaine's eyes landed on Kurofsky, I dropped the rest of my books and held Blaine back. I felt his muscles tense underneath my touch and growled in anger at the new student. "The fuck did you just call him?" Blaine snarled at Kurofsky, his eyes suddenly full of hatred.

"You heard me." He said, raising his head.

"You fucking bastard." His voice raised and all went quite - few students were in the hall because of breakfast, but it still became unnervingly shushed. I looked around frantically as I felt my fingers slipping away from the grip. I saw David and Wes walking over and standing in front of me, taking my hands off of Blaine's arms. But they didn't replace my hands with theirs. I watched as Blaine's hands clenched into fists. He strode closer to Kurofsky, enraged, "Don't _ever_ call him that again." He spat in Kurofsky's face.

"Okay," Dave smiled darkly, glancing at me with eyes that made me feel as if I was being chocked. Fear struck through me. He looked back at Blaine with that same smile, which made me even more nervous, "Your choice. Princess or fairy?"

"_Boys!_" I heard a firm, authoritative voice call out and I looked to see Ms. Moore, my old Spanish teacher, striding down the hall towards us. With one last snarl, Blaine broke eye contact with Kurofsky and went to my side.

"Are you okay?" He asked, looking all over my body for any marks, "Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm fine." I said, smiling slightly. Blaine let out a breath he seemed to be keeping in for a while and helped me up.

"You," Ms. Moore snapped at Kurofsky, then turned to Blaine, "and you. Principal's office. Now." The bell rang signaling first period was going to start in five minutes, and she looked to the rest of the students in the hall, "Everyone else, get to class." Nodding, I looked at Blaine. The teacher was grabbing them by the arms. He shook her hand off of his arm.

"I need a cigarette." He said, grabbing the cigarette that was resting behind his ear and started towards the door.

"You get back here right now, Mr. Anderson." The teacher ordered him. That only gained her an eye roll. Without another word, he was out the door.

When I got to class, it was almost full, making me sit beside a Marrequito student. Focusing on my thoughts, I drained the teacher out. What is Kurofsky doing here at Dalton? I felt tears stinging at my eyes and had to remind myself that I'm in class. What did I do to deserve to be treated like that? Why does he have to make it his full time job to hunt me down and shoot me like I'm some sort of animal? What-

There was a knock at the classroom door and it opened to reveal Blaine inhaling a cigarette and putting it out on the wooden door frame. He flicked the butt into the trash can and exhaled the smoke.

"Mr. Williams." Blaine nodded, walking to the back of the class to sit in the last empty desk, alone.

"Anderson, how great of you to join us for the last…" The teacher turned to the clock, "five minutes."

"I was held up." He said, glancing towards me for a split second before searching through his uniform pockets for something. He took out a crumpled piece of paper and held it between two fingers, like a cigarette. The teacher walked over and took the note, nodding.

"Try not to be late for class?" It wasn't much of a question as it was a suggestion.

"Depends." Blaine replied, shrugging. And the conversation between the two was left at that as the bell rang signaling it was second period.

I gathered my stuff, shoving it in my bag as I walked over to Blaine. Smiling up at me from his seat, he got up and led me to my second period class.

That period went by ten times faster than the last one and before I knew it, it was dinner time.

I walked into the cafeteria. After getting a tray of food, I awkwardly looked around to see if I could spot Blaine. When I saw the head of dark curls, I walked over to the table he was at with the rest of the Warblers.

"- oh, I was so hung over that day." David said, continuing whatever conversation they were in as I reached the table. What? Just because he's dapper, he can't have fun every now and then? Nick shifted over a bit so I could sit beside Blaine and started eating the food on my tray.

As the table continued to talk, I felt eyes on me. I looked around to see Kurofsky glaring at me from across the cafeteria with a group of friends. I don't know when I decided to hold Blaine's hand under the table, but the comfortable safety of Blaine's hand in my own made Kurofsky seem a lot less scary.

I looked at Blaine to see him practically growling at Kurofsky from across the room. When he noticed I was looking at him, he turned and smiled, squeezing my hand in reassurance. Butterflies started fluttering in my stomach.

Oh, Blaine.

-x-

**The first chapter has been used as an introduction to this story, which explains why it is so short.**

**While reading this multi-chaptered piece of fiction, you will begin to notice an absurd pattern with the updates. This is because I will upload the chapters in parts (one and two), and combine them a week after the most recent chapter is complete. For example, I would put up step one, part one. After a week or so, I will upload step two, part two. A week after that, I will combine them into one large chapter. This will be the same for the other chapters. It will be one step per chapter.**

**I really hope you enjoy the story being flung your way! A review is like crack for writers and I am definitely addicted, so please, _please review._**


	2. Step Two: Lavatory

**Finn: Uh, I guess the plan worked better than I expected? Whoa, I didn't actually think the Warblers would hack the school's system just to get Blaine and Kurt to sleep in the same room together. It's a little awkward on my part, knowing that my brother is sleeping in the same room with another gay guy but since I've known Blaine for a while now, it's kinda reassuring, as well. Better him than anyone else. So, the plan worked. Yeah. Wait, what Wes? Kurofsky transferred to **_**Dalton? **_**What the fuck, man! I thought he was finally out of Kurt's life! I swear, if he touches Kurt…  
>And, well, I guess that's what you missed on Glee!<strong>

_Tumblr: sexgustin . tumblr . com_

-X-

**Step Two: Lavatory**

**(Blaine/Jeff POV)**

**-X- OCTOBER –X-**

"Kurt," Kurt and I were on our way to class when Jeff stopped us, giving me a smile of hello, "Do you have your history notes with you?"

"No, sorry," Kurt said apologetically. We were about to continue walking as a look of utter terror struck Jeff's face. "Do you need it that much?"

"Yeah, I have a test next period and I'm freaking out," Jeff said, looking desperate.

Sighing, Kurt reached into his pocket, "Go to our dorm room," he started, referring to the room Kurt and I owned together. It makes me smile – the thought that we share something, as a duo, "the notes are on the coffee table in the middle of the room. The room number is seventy-seven." He explained, dropping the key into Jeff's hand. Jeff shoved the keys in his pocket, nodding eagerly.

"Thanks," he smiled, a look of appreciation on his face, before he ran off. Looking back at us, he yelled, "You really _won't_ regret this!"

Well, that was peculiar.

"Are you sure about giving him the keys to our room?" I questioned, raising one of my eyebrows.

"Of course," Kurt shrugged in response, brushing the thought of doubt off, "What's the worst he can do?"

-X-

As soon as I turned the corner, out of the couple's sight, I slowed down to a softer pace. Feeling presence beside me, I was hit with a vibe, clarifying Nick was walking in step with me.

I knew very well that Kurt would not have his History notes, seeing as it's a day three and Kurt's schedule doesn't include History on this day. All was going according to plan. A bright smile plastered my face, a feeling of accomplishment washing over me.

I'm not going to lie, I felt great.

"Got the keys?" Nick asked, smiling the same way I was. I dug into my pocket and twirled the key ring around my finger. Nodding in appreciation, I was requested the highest of fives from my best friend.

This plan _rocked._

The Warblers gathered outside of Kurt and Blaine's dorm room. Before stepping into the room, I stopped everyone, "Okay guys, we have to make this quick and easy." I glanced at all the other Warblers before I slid the key into the lock. Turning the key, the door clicked open with ease. I opened the door and examined the faces of determination before signaling them to move in, "Go!"

Let me explain to you what exactly we're doing. We're stealing all towels from the bathroom. Why would we do that, you ask? So when one of them goes for their morning shower and can't find a towel, the other will _have_ to have his wet, naked body on his mind while searching for one. Well thought out plan? I thought so, too. Everyone went to the bathroom, grabbing as many towels as possible and ran off, out of the room. After checking to make sure this bathroom was towel-less, I grabbed the history book.

"Done," I said, smiling, "this mission has been a success." I laughed in a robot like imitation.

"Depart from location." Nick laughed, joining in and with a click of the door, we left.

-X-

"Clearly, you don't know Jeff if you just asked that question." I explained, snorting. We walked to our next class together in peace, but we knew it wouldn't be as untroubled when we stepped foot into this class. Kurofsky would be there.

So far, he hasn't been that bad. A few taunts of mockery here and there, but nothing too big. Nothing I couldn't handle.

He's found his clique – the jocks, of course. We have an alright athletic program here – with all the money, what else would they spend it on?

As we stepped into the class, my face instantly went into a sneer. Defensively, of course. Sitting as far away from Kurofsky while sitting beside each other got us nowhere, seeing as we were one of the last people to get here – no thanks to Jeff, we ended up sitting at the back of the class, right in front of Kurofsky. Well, at least we're together, right?

As the teacher started the lesson for the day, I attempted to keep myself entertained by only the best way possible. Kurt. Smirking, I placed my hand on his thigh, right past the knee. Blushing, he gave me a quick glance in response and tried to focus his attention to the front of the room. He didn't slap my hand away. That can totally work as permission to continue.

With my eyes now locked to the front of the room where the teacher is speaking, I slid my hand further up his thigh. Beside me, I heard a small squeak and I gave a quick look over in his direction to see an expression of realization on his face and his mouth in a small 'o'. A prick of laughter stabbed at me. Oh, how I wanted to give into my senses and just burst into tears of laughter, but I had to hold myself together to finish what I started.

This time, I slithered my hand up much further than the actual 'are you nervous' game allowed in the second round. My hand ended up right beside his crotch, still on his thighs. In my peripheral vision, I saw Kurt turn to me and give me a panicked look, but my attempt to stay composed throughout this worked and I didn't let his look effect me. He turned back to face the front, shaking his head. I took this as a silent plead of, _'please stop whatever you're doing, you little shit, and pay attention.'_

But my hand has a mind of its own.

Ignoring the plead for an instantaneous halt, I slid my hand inwards, gripping his inner thigh and feeling his crotch on the back of my hand through the uniform pants.

Oh my God. He was _hard_. I mean, it's not like I wouldn't be hard by this time if the roles were reversed, because I would, but the fact of the matter is that I have feelings for him. He doesn't have feelings for me and I still have this effect on him? That's actually quite reassuring.

How do I know he doesn't share my feelings towards him? Let's take a little trip back in time…

_-X- Flashback -X-_

"What does me being gay have anything to do with you?" I screamed through tear-filled eyes, threatening to fall at any second. _No_, my head screeched at me, _you have to show him you're stronger than that!_ "Why do you have to label me like everyone else in the world? Why am I such a failure all of a sudden? Is it because of my sexuality?"

"You're a fucking _faggot_!" My Dad roared, throwing a vase at the wall as it shattered, "Stop it! Liking men is a disgrace to nature! It's impure and immoral! You're the reason your mother is crying upstairs right now!"

"_Immoral?_" I felt my stomach clench as my cheeks grew red with anger, tears falling from my blood-shot eyes, "It's not a _choice_, Dad! I didn't choose to be this way!" A tense silence filled the room for a couple seconds as the sobs from upstairs continued. I felt my heart drop knowing my Mom was hurting upstairs because I had to choose this moment to come out to them.

"Then get out of my house." At those words, my anguish hit me full force. My heart fell into my stomach as I tried to desperately regain my father.

"What?" I asked, sobbing harder than before.

"Get out of my house _right now._" He growled, taking the bag I was using for a sleep over at Wesley's house and walking toward the door.

"Dad, please, you can't actually-"

"I will not have a blasphemy for a son." He said, finality ringing in his voice as he threw my stuff out of the door, thunder crackling outside.

"Dad, _ple-_"

"_Get out!_" He screeched, grabbing me by the arm and throwing me out as if I were a piece of baggage, as well, "Don't ever come back here again!"

This seemed to happen a lot. Dad would get drunk and throw me out for something wrong I really didn't do. But this time, Dad wasn't drunk and it was on the fact that I was gay and out with it. Something about this seemed harsher than all the other times and I felt the tears drip to my lips, a bitter taste to the scene that just played out.

_No,_ I told myself, my heart pounding as I tried to calm myself with a deep breath, _you have somewhere to be. Come back later and try to figure things out with him then. Don't let him get to you._

But it did. The fact that my Dad didn't want to see me anymore because I'm gay did get to me, and the whole taxi ride there, his voice rang in my head, anger and hurt streaming from all my pores.

I walked through Wes' house in my perfectly put together outfit, despite how uncharacteristically torn apart I felt, when I spotted him. It was the end of June and my new found friends David and Wesley were throwing an end of the year party. Everyone was stoked about finishing exams and having the summer off. Wes decided that since his parents were out for the next week and a half that would give him enough time to throw the party of the century, clean up the house, and replace the alcohol before his parents returned. Taking a breather, I felt myself relax and I put on my perfect persona act and attempted to seem normal.

I'm gonna laugh in his face when Wesley's parents find out about this party. Where was I again? Oh, yeah. Kurt.

Gathered in a group of friends from New Directions on the couches and an arm wrapped around him was Kurt. I followed the arm connected to the body to realize…

_Puck? Out of everyone, Puck? How could Kurt ever like a guy like him? He's just… He's a juvenile delinquent! He's everything Kurt doesn't want out of a guy!_

I felt something hot bubble within me. Hatred? Fear? Jealousy? Well, whatever it was, it made my jaw clench and heart sink, and I definitely didn't like this feeling. With a deep breath, I walked over to the group, grabbing a beer on the way there.

"Hey everyone," I said happily, looking over to the boy of my dreams, "Kurt." With a blush, he pulled away from his _friend's_ hug and got up from the couch to hug me. I looked over to Puck with a triumphant smirk and wrapped my arms around the taller boy's waist, letting his scent drape around me. When Kurt pulled away, he looked at me in question.

"Blaine, what's wrong?" I can't hide anything from this boy, can I? Kurt's voice was down in a whisper, concern lacing it.

"Nothing." I said, attempting at a lie. Okay, I hate being dishonest with Kurt, but this is just… not the right place. Kurt looked at me with a raised eyebrow, "Okay, fine. It's something. But can I talk to you about it later? It's… not the time or place." He nodded, sitting down and patting the seat beside him as an invitation for me to sit with him. I accepted.

You know what pissed me off? Right when Kurt sat down, Puck's arm was instantly around his shoulders again. Didn't Kurt tell me that he was straight?

"Everyone, this is Blaine." Kurt said, his hand still in mine. I felt my heart quicken it's pace as I realized this and felt my palms quickly became sweaty. A round of hellos went around as a dark haired Latina that I recognized as Santana danced her way over to me, sitting in my lap.

"Kurt, if this is the one you were talking about, _please_ tell me why you haven't fucked him sideways already." The dark haired girl spoke bluntly to Kurt, looking me up and down with a dark look in her eyes. They trailed up and landed on my own pair, "Because, Kurt, I definitely wants in on that sex-on-a-stick."

"Uh," I coughed, feeling quite awkward as I stammered about, "Sorry. It's not that you're not pretty, because you really are, it's just that-"

"Oh, I know you're gay, hobbit," She spoke again, twirling one of my curls in her fingers, "But I'm pretty sure I can change that if you'd like." Her voice growled out, deep and seductive. Coughing again, I shifted awkwardly in my seat, trying to look away from her. She's definitely what most described as hot… But, seeing that she had female parts (and rather large ones, at that) I knew for a fact she really couldn't do much for me.

"Down Santana," I heard Kurt from beside me and I turned to look at him. His face was red and I could see a scold clear on his features. Huh, looks like I wasn't the only one jealous this evening, "And if you don't get down, I'll push you down."

"Oh, I can definitely go down on him," Santana smirked, licking her lips. Okay. Um. Whoa.

"Santana…" Kurt warned, earning a sigh of defeat from the girl as she got up and out of my lap.

"Okay, fine. But the offer is always on the table." She said, flaunting away toward the blond, linking pinkies. Finn walked over to me, sitting beside me.

"No worries, bro, she's like that to everyone." He said, shrugging, "Hey, I'm Finn." There was something about Finn that made me feel ten times as awkward then I was when being hit on by a girl. I clasped his hand in hello, nodding.

"Blaine," I laughed.

"Yeah, I know," Finn's eyes drifted toward Kurt as if Kurt was signaling him something behind my back. I chose to ignore it, smiling. He knows… Does Kurt talk about me a lot? "I'm Kurt's step brother." And then it all clicked.

"Oh! Hey, I've heard quite a bit about you, as well." I said, getting a little more nervous than I was before. This being Kurt's family meant I had to make a good impression.

"I hope it wasn't about me leaving underwear all over my room," Finn spoke softly to himself, then, realizing I was there, blushed, "Oh, maybe I shouldn't have said that."

"Finn, how many times do I have to tell you to not speak your thoughts out loud?" A short brunette walked over, her hands on her hips. As she noticed me, her eyes brightened up, sticking out her hand for me to shake, "Oh, competition! Hello, I'm Rachel Berry, the lead singer of New Directions. May I ask, what do you have in mind for next year's regional's?"

"Okay, that's enough, guys," Kurt giggled nervously, getting up from the spot behind me and pulling on my hand for me to follow, "We're just going to go get some punch." Nodding like the whipped puppy I was, I quickly followed close behind, not wanting to get dragged into any other conversations. As soon as we were around the corner and out of their sight, Kurt huffed, "Sorry, they're a handful. Can we talk?" Nerves struck through me - Is he breaking up with me? Wait, Blaine, calm down. You guys aren't even together. But, is he breaking our friendship? Nodding, a quick thought of _Courage_ striking through my mind, Kurt led me to an empty bedroom and sat me on the bed, "Blaine, what happened? You walked in here with that wall up."

"Kurt, please don't worry. It was noth-"

"Don't you dare try to shut me out, Anderson. I've been shut out my whole life and don't deserve that from you, too." With that one sentence, I realized that I could trust Kurt Hummel with my life. He's been through the feeling of being abandoned and unloved, and he's been hurt by trusted people in his life.

As I went through the story of how I got here,

_-X- Flashback End -X-_

That summer, I re-evaluated myself. Changed my style, broadened my music taste and chose to get caught up in bad habits. Trying (and failing) to get Kurt off of my mind, I started fooling around with guys. If they were in Ohio and liked what I liked, that was as high as my standards would go. I started working out at this kick boxing gym and there were results. Great results, actually.

When classes rolled around again, I was at the top of my school. I don't even know how I got there. Maybe because of my new look. Maybe it was the rumors of all the guys I (definitely did not) fuck. Or it could've been the fact that I was chosen to be the Warblers' soloist and stayed at the top as the never-been-beaten lead of the Warblers. It could've been my new found attitude towards teachers and how bullshit they could be sometimes. I don't know, but nobody back talked me again.

Kurt swatted at my hand on his inner thigh with a small yelp and I removed my hand with a cocky grin.

The bell rang, signaling that class was over and it was lunch time. I got up from my chair – not having to put anything away seeing as I took nothing out – and slung the bag around my shoulder, following Kurt through the doorway, out of the room, when someone pushed past me in rage.

"Faggots."

I don't know what happened or how it was put into action, but something fired within me and before I knew it, Kurofksy was pushed up against the wall outside of the classroom and my fist was being pulled back, ready to collide with his face full force, when a hand grabbed my arm. I instantly relaxed, knowing it was Kurt who was holding me back.

"No!" That made me stop. Why would Kurt give Kurofsky, the boy that drove him out of his old school, any sympathy? "Don't, Blaine. That's just stooping down to his level." My still hard eyes shifted to Kurt and automatically softened. He was sincere and selfless, and completely right.

"The only thing stopping me from pummeling your face into the ground is Kurt." I shot daggers at Kurofsky with piercing eyes. Fury pumped through my veins. How can someone so vile survive this long without earning a beating to knock some sense into him, yet? With complete and utter violent anger, my fist went flying at the wall beside his head. I needed to hit something; I needed to get thoughts of Kurofsky out of my system. With a crack, I felt misplacement in my knuckle, along with a sharp pain. With one last shove, I let him go, "Don't fucking test me."

I didn't know a group had formed around us until I had to push through the people, holding onto Kurt's hand for dear life as we could get separated easily. As soon as we passed through the crowd, we made our way to lunch.

Fucking Kurofsky, I should out him right now. I would never do that – that's just cruelty. But… _ugh._

Yeah, that's right. I know Kurofsky is gay. Kurt told me everything in grade nine about his threats and the… the kiss. It makes me enraged. Kurofsky _stole_ something that wasn't his to take and Kurt will never get that back. It sickens me. After nights and nights, just holding Kurt as he bawled his eyes out until he slept, I know. But I don't. I don't know went on in Kurt's head, and me not knowing scares me even more.

"Thank you," I heard Kurt sigh softly as soon as we entered an abandoned hallway. I looked over to him, one of my eyebrows raised in question. A smiled crossed his face lightly, "for sticking up for me." I grinned cheekily, running a hand through my curls.

"Oh, it was noth-"

"Blaine, your hand!" With a gasp, Kurt pointed at said hand that was being swept through my hair. My brows furrowed in curiosity and I pulled my hand out of my hair to see what was so fascinating about it. Oh, _fuck._ Let's just say it wasn't the prettiest sight to see.

Bloodied up and bruised, the knuckle of my pinkie was no longer to be found. There was an indent where the knuckle should have been. I could see a green bruise starting to form around it, and when I attempted to clench my fist, a few of my fingers –including the pinkie- overlapped each other.

"Shit," I mumbled, examining the damage. Well, it sure as hell hurt.

"We should get you to the nurse wing," Kurt said, tugging on my jacket sleeve in a very kidlike manner to get me to follow. I shook my head and watched as Kurt's forehead creased, "Why not?"

"They'll ask questions." I said simply, shrugging my shoulders. Kurt opened his mouth as if he was about to talk, but I cut in, "Do you actually think they'll believe me if I say I punched a wall?" I scoffed, a sarcastic half-smirk planted on my face. Kurt sighed, but pushed on as the optimist he is.

"It's the truth," he pointed out.

"Does it really matter?" I asked, and with a defeated sigh, Kurt gave in.

"At least let me try to help. Come on," placing a hand in mine (non-injured hand, of course), Kurt brought me down a familiar hall on the way to our dorm room, like the first time we met. By the time we got to our room, it felt like we just relived a dream or distant memory. We stepped into the room, using my extra key, and it looked exactly as it was left as. Weird. I would at least think that Jeff would've toilet papered the place.

… Huh.

"I'll get the bandage wrap and some antibiotics." Kurt explained, rushing into the bathroom. I hummed in appreciation and followed, removing my blazer and throwing it on the bed. Sitting on the toilet seat lid, I watched as Kurt shuffled around, looking for what he needed when I noticed something looked different about the bathroom. Well, this is- "Ah! Found it!" The thought was left alone as Kurt pulled out a deep brown bottle of rubbing alcohol, a few cotton balls, a bigger-than-usual band aid and the bandage wrap. Holding my hand out, he placed it on his thigh and started unscrewing the top of the bottle. I beamed in a priggish tone, remembering how just a little while ago, he was slapping my hand away from his thigh, "This is going to sting just a little bit."

Oh, I was definitely not ready for the burning sensation that came after those few words of caution.

Like a bullet, it was fast and unprepared for. The feeling was cold, but burnt me simultaneously. Trying to stay as fair-minded as possible, I tried not to think about how much it stung. It really didn't help. Kurt looked up at me with concern filled eyes and I shrug it off. As soon as he removed the cotton ball, relief washed over me and he placed the big band aid over the injury. He then proceeded to wrap the hand in the bandage wrap and pinned it all together.

"There. All better," he smiled brightly, looking up at me. After a couple seconds, a blush crept onto his face and he looked away, standing up. "We should probably get to lunch." He left the bathroom and I followed him out, grabbing my leather jacket to replace the blazer, throwing that over my shoulder. And with that, we left the room.

-x-

When we got to the cafeteria, I knew. Without even having to look, I could feel all eyes were on us. A cocky smirk planted on my face I walked over to the cafeteria bar and grabbed an apple, shining it on my shirt. Kurt grabbed a salad and we walked over to the cash, paying for our food, and proceeded towards our regular table with the guys. As soon as we got there, questions were hitting us left, right and center.

"Where were you guys?"

"What happened to your arm?"

"Why are you so late?"

"What happened this time?"

"Why is Kurt red?"

"Guys," Kurt looked at them all unbelievably, rubbing a hand on his temple and rolling his eyes while taking a seat next to me. Smirk still plastered on my face, I slung my arm around his chair casually, earning an annoyed look from Kurt. Ha, "chill. We went to the dorm room." A nervous glance was thrown between the guys, but nothing else was stated.

"Well, what happened to his hand?" This whole sentence just irritated the fuck out of me. They referred to me and pointed to towards me, but acted like I wasn't there to answer my own questions. As if he was reading my thoughts, Kurt looked over at me to answer the question to include me in the conversation. Once again, I was grateful to have a guy like him in my life right now.

"Fucking Kurofsky, that's what," as everyone raised eyebrows in question, I continued to tell them all that had happened – leaving out Kurt's hard on and my little game of 'are you nervous'. They should be glad I don't give them too many details.

"Are you serious?" Wesley practically sneered, looking over at the jocks table. I turned around in my chair to see Kurofsky across the lunch room, staring off into space, "What a dick wad."

Looking unsure of himself Kurt jumped in, "Guys, come on," Kurt started hesitantly, "he could be going through something we may never understand." He explained, his eyes flickering to me.

"Kurt," I interrupted, shaking my head in disagreement, "nothing can justify what he did to you. He's not safe." The bell rang, stopping our conversation then and there. Kurofsky gets no sympathy from me – there is nothing that can validate what he did to Kurt, and it almost upsets me that Kurt thought otherwise.

The rest of the day went by in a blur and before I could blink, I was in the dorm room watching the Lady and the Tramp on my laptop alone.

Actually, it's starting to worry me – I had heard from Kurt that he was at the library, but that was quite a while ago. Sighing, I looked down for what seemed like the millionth time at the text he sent me.

**From: Kurt, 2:27pm**

**Hey, I'm going to the library for a project, don't wait up for me! - Kurt**

The door clicked open and the keeper of my sanity stood there looking exhausted from a long, eventful day at school. A few new books were in his hands, confirming his honesty.

"Are you watching Disney?" And with that, I snapped out of it and quickly closed the laptop, wide eyed. See, I don't really tell people about my love of all things Disney – It'll ruin my image, "You were!" Kurt smiled, dropping all the books on his bed and slinging the bag off his shoulder. He walked over to me with a surprisingly engaging smirk (_bastard_) as I stayed situated in place, frozen. Shit, he knows, "It's okay you know," he continued, climbing onto the bed next to me and opening up the laptop, "I don't mind. Actually, on the contrary, I think it's adorable."

… He's _flirting_ with me. Shamelessly flirting!

"Tell anyone and it's your head," I said playfully. Kurt beamed up at me, resting a head on my shoulder and pressing play. The rest of the evening was spent holding hands, watching the memory-filled Disney movie and falling asleep in each other's arms.

-x-

**Step Two – Part Two: Pamphlets**

**(Blaine POV)**

**-X- OCTOBER –X-**

I awoke to the light sound of singing in the shower. _Kurt._ Smiling to myself, I opened my eyes and sat upright, stretching. I got out of my bed with a bounce in my step, completely energized. You know that feeling you get when you just know that today's going to be awesome? I totally got that.

Gathering my things, I started tearing off my clothing – which only consisted of my boxers, a wife beater and black silky pajama pants – to get changed into my Dalton uniform. Before coming to the dorm room last night, I stopped by the Ploceidae shower room, seeing as it was on the way there. I didn't want to cause confusion in the morning with two people taking showers, so I volunteered myself to take one the night before.

The water shut off with a creek of the tap and I quickly put on my leatherjacket over top of the Dalton undershirt. I heard the shower curtain slide open and I couldn't help but think about Kurt just after a shower.

Wet. Without any clothes on. Hehe.

"Blaine?" Kurt's voice came from behind the bathroom door snapping me out of my daydream. He sounded almost worrisome and I could practically see Kurt all flustered. Except this time, he would be naked, "Blaine, I don't think there are any towels in here."

Oh, shit.

"Uh," I started almost awkwardly, pictures of Kurt's wet body running through my mind, "do you know where any towels might be?"

"Um," Kurt coughed lightly, sounding just as awkward as I was, "Oh! You can try looking through my suitcase. I think I remember packing an extra few!" Nodding in response, although Kurt couldn't see me, I looked around, puzzled.

"Kurt, you have two and a half suitcases, remember?" I questioned, looking at the black and white luggage.

"Oh, right." I could hear Kurt mumble from behind the door, "Try the white one!"

Walking over, I opened the suitcase to find (literally) a whole department store. After rummaging around I finally found it – a white towel similar to the ones you'd find at a hotel, reminding me just how many I've stolen and have at home. That's when a few brightly colored papers – no, pamphlets fluttered to the floor, catching my attention.

_What to know about sex as a homosexual – The Positions!_

_Safe sex – the L __**G**__ B T way!_

Huh. So this is what Burt gave Kurt after I talked to him about that.

"Blaine?" A confused Kurt sounded from the bathroom, "Did you find it?" Thinking on impulse, I instantly grabbed my Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows book and shoved the pamphlet inside at a random page, shoving that in my bag.

"Y-yeah!" I almost fucking squeaked, but kept composed, shaking what I just found out of my head. I walked over to the door and opened it halfway, closing my eyes and handing Kurt the towel.

'Kurt is standing in front of me naked for all I know, and you're thinking about pamphlets? Blaine, you need to get your priorities in check.'

Kurt walked out of the bathroom with the short towel riding low on his hips, stopping at his knees. Oh my God, I can see his hip bones and he's really toned and –

'Fuck, Blaine. Cool it. You're supposed to tease him, remember?'

Oh yeah. Right.

"I'll uh," I started, shuffling where I stood, fully aware of my growing problem, "I'll just give you some privacy." And with that, I almost ran into the door on my way out.

'Smooth Anderson – Real smooth.'

Okay, you shut the fuck up, conscience. I've had enough with your snarky ass comments.\

Readjusting the straps of my bag, I started to walk towards the café for breakfast, giving Kurt a heads up ('Oh, you'd adore giving him head' – Shut the fuck up!) through a short text. I felt a blush burn in my cheeks as I walked through the cafeteria doors, instantly spotting my friends.

Sharing glances around the table as I sat down, they instantly looked at me as if I was expected to share something.

"What?" I asked, feeling a tad uncomfortable at the fact that they were practically cornering me with their expectant stares.

"You're blushing, Blaine," Flint explained, a wide smile growing on his face as he looked at the others. But that was impossible because Blaine Anderson doesn't blush. Nope. Never.

"Shut up, man," I coughed, ducking my head. These bastards, "No, I'm not."

"You are!" Cameron jumped up in glee as Jeff and Nick gave each other a high five, "What happened?"

"Nothing, just shut-"

"Hey guys," A small familiar voice came from behind me, causing me to nearly jump out of my skin. Kurt, looking utterly baffled at my reaction, sat down beside me with food. Oh yeah, food. My stomach grumbled at the reminder of the glorious time called breakfast and with a nod of hello to Kurt, I left the table to go grab some grub.

By the time I got back, Kurt had already left to get to class early. Feeling a frown of discontent where the cocky, yet hopeful smirk used to be, I took a seat and began to scoff the food down my throat, not a second to spare.

"You know, Kurt looked a little disappointed when you just left without even saying hello," Trent scooted beside me, placing his hand on his chin.

"What? Why would he be upset?" I asked, furrowing my brows in confusion. I said hi… well, kinda.

"You did sort of leave right when he got to the table. And you hardly looked at him," Trent reasoned. Oh shit, maybe he's right. And after what happened this morning, not saying hello could indicate that I didn't like what I saw. Of course I did, I practically reassured him every day last year… But haven't so far this school year. I should definitely change that as soon as possible, "Is there something that you're not telling everyone - something that happened between you and Kurt, maybe?" Well, that certainly shoved me out of my thoughts.

"What? Of course not!" I quickly spluttered out, trying to keep my cool. I looked at my Blackberry to check the time, "I should probably get going. You know, class and all that shit." Trent nodded in an understanding manner, letting me go, as I stood up to get to class.

You know, Trent has always been there for other people, but I have a feeling he himself doesn't have much of a shoulder to cry on. I like Trent, he's a great pal.

The next two periods felt like two days. Being assigned close to the teacher because of my apparently 'trouble making' ways meant I couldn't pull out those pamphlets and read them. I could feel the curiosity blaze inside me every time I even glanced at my bag. It's times like this where I wish I could have control of the Tardis or something because _fuck,_ those classes took forever.

Fuck you, Doctor Who is great.

Lunch rolled around with a growl from my stomach and I walked toward the cafeteria with ease, a pathway being made for me by the student body. Shit, I don't bite; they don't have to be so fucking careful. Then again, at least I'll get there faster without having to shove people out of my way.

"_Attention all boys! Cheerleading tryouts for the Dalton Academy Thunderbirds will be held afterschool in our gymnasium at 3:00! Come dressed in proper attire! Thank you!" _

A perky voice sounded from the P.A. system, the voice of Crawford Country Day's gym coach. I scoffed at the reminder; who in the right mind would actually join cheerleading? There are a few guys at this school interested in dance, but I don't really think many people would be all that interested in being a cheerleader. The picture of guys in a skirt… not the hottest idea.

I walked through the doors of the cafeteria and grabbed a tray to place food on, deciding upon the pasta.

Because this is an all boys school, Crawford Country Day and Dalton Academy decided on forming together when it came to sports, giving us girl and guy teams, but deciding upon a mixed cheerleading team. So far, really not many guys have been that flexible to make it on the team, but that doesn't stop the cheer coach from advertising about it every year.

"I can't wait to see those girls in skirts," David said as I reached the table. I swear, all the guys looked like children on Christmas; except this time, the skirts were the wrapping paper.

"Those bows in their hair and ugh," Flint cried out in agony, picturing the girls.

"You guys have gone far too long without any pleasure," Wes chuckled, a snarky grin on his face.

"Shut up, man," Nick whined, "We all know your girlfriend is the captain of the Thunderbirds and loves to use costumes."

"I never said anything about costumes." Wes glared at Nick. The boys chuckled around the table, shaking their heads.

"But you totally implied it," David elbowed Wes with a devilish grin.

"That was Halloween!" Wes exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air.

"Hey guys," Kurt's voice came from behind me and I turned around to see him pulling up a chair to sit beside me, "Should I even ask what you're talking about?"

"Wes' sex life and cheerleaders, nothing new," Thad shrugged, shoving the spoon full of chocolate pudding in his mouth. Kurt raised his eyebrows and began to nibble on his celery stick. It went awfully quiet as Kurt bit into his vegetable stick, everyone looking at him expectantly. Swallowing, he finally cut through the silence.

"I might want to try out for cheerleading."

Fuck. Wait. What. Wait. Fuck.

Okay, you know how I said a guy in a skirt isn't that hot? Yeah, I totally fucking take that back. Suddenly everyone looked at me with wide eyes as Kurt absently nibbled on his celery stick. I bit my bottom lip and inhaled deeply, readjusting my sitting position so it wouldn't hurt so much. And like that, everyone was holding back laughter. Not one squeak came out of anyone's mouth because if anything did, I would fucking kill them.

"Wait, really?" Jeff turned to Kurt in pure curiosity, no trace of 'Oh my God, Blaine's becoming sexually frustrated, time to laugh at his misfortunes' in his tone at all. Kurt nodded enthusiastically.

"I was in the Cheerios before I transferred here," Kurt shrugged, laughing at a memory, "I definitely miss it."

"You were in a breakfast cereal?" Nick looked bewildered.

"Oh, the Cheerios were the McKinley cheerleaders."

He was in… Oh my fuck, what even?

Kurt blushed as everyone pushed him on to try out for the Thunderbirds. What are they trying to do, kill me? Give me a heart attack? Because once I see Kurt in one of those tight, form-fitting outfits, that's what's going to happen.

"Blaine, what do you think about it?" Luke, known as the Warbler with awesome hair, spoke up, wiggling his eyebrows at me. Don't you dare, Luke.

"Yeah, Blaine," Jesse made an inappropriate noise with his tongue and the inside of his bottom lip, smacking them together with a grin on his face, "what are your views on this?"

Kurt turned to me expectantly, and I put on the most relaxed face I could summon, "Babe, I think you'd make quite the cheerleader." A sly smirk was placed on my face as I watched Kurt's blood pool in his cheeks, a blush covering his face and neck. Others started going off into their own conversations, giving us some privacy, "Hey, I have to go to the weight lifting room beside the gym after school for football, wanna go together?"

"Football?" Kurt raised his eyebrows, "You never told me you were gonna try out this year, too."

"Try out every year, so why not?" I shrugged, smirking smugly, "Besides I'm already on the team. We've just been conditioning with weight lifting before we actually start practicing this year. So, it's a date?"

A smile appeared on Kurt's face, genuine and happy, "Definitely."

The next class came with ease and gave me a feeling of a load being lifted off of my chest. I sat at the desk in the far corner of the classroom. Propping my feet up on the desk, I grabbed the book out of my bag.

"Blaine, the desk is for work, not feet," Mrs. De Leon, the French teacher, called from the front of the room, irritation lacing her voice. Not glancing up to acknowledge her, I shook my head in disagreement, leaving my feet just where they were, thank you very much. I mean, I wasn't disrupting the class today, why should she disrupt me? "Mr. Anderson, did you hear me?"

"Yep," I popped the word, rolling my eyes. Just get on with the lesson already so I can read these things. I've had a lot of shit happen in one day – hell, Kurt might be mad at me – I don't need her shoving nonsense about my behavior down my throat. She knows she's only doing this to seem more teacher-like.

"Well?" She asked, frustrated. Why are people expecting so much out of me today?

"Well?" I repeated her, looking up in disbelief. Come on, Audrey, give me a break.

"Blaine, can I talk to you outside for a moment?" She asked, opening the classroom door with a look of '_dude, don't embarrass me in front of my other students.'_ Ugh, fine. Sighing, I got up and followed her out to the empty hallway. She closed the door behind her slowly, "Blaine, what the hell? You're a good student with good grades. Why are you being so annoying?" With a deep noisy exhale, I responded.

"Mrs. De Leon, it's nothing," I said, shaking my head.

"Don't 'Mrs. De Leon' me, Blaine," She scolded, slapping me at the back of my head, "I'm your aunt, and you know you can tell me things."

Okay, so let me explain something to whoever is listening out there. Audrey Anderson, my aunt, went to the sister school of Dalton Academy, Crawford Country Day. She met the man of her dreams after asking him to the Crawford-Dalton Sadie Hawkins dance. After graduation, they were inseparable. Soon they eloped and ran off together to Paris (where he was from) to get married, becoming Mrs. Audrey De Leon. She fell in love with the culture and decided then that she would be a French teacher.

She's always been there for me – she was the first person I came out to and she held me through the sobs when my Dad disowned me, throwing me out on the streets. I now live with her and her husband when I'm not boarding at Dalton. People say we look alike, too. She has dark curly hair with tanned skin, but has crystal blue eyes. I really don't see many similarities, but I've been told…

I've also been told that she's hot by seventy five percent of the schools population, which is quite awkward. No one really knows she's my aunt because we both decided that we don't want people to know. They'd start assuming that she's giving me high marks because she's my aunt – but she's not. I'm working my ass off for those grades.

"Boy issues," I said, exasperated. And I swear she almost smiled at that. I'm like the daughter she couldn't have, as weird as that is. Yeah, couldn't. She's infertile. That's okay; she's planning on adopting soon, "Can I read this period? I need to get my mind off of it."

"Kay, I'll send you the work later. Text me what's up with this boy when you can," She said with a wink, elbowing me in the side, "Oh, but not from four to five thirty. Mr. _Princess_ wants a meeting. I'm gonna need a cigarette after he hardcore rants." She rolled her eyes at that and let me into class. She calls the principle Mr. Princess because he's a stuck up asshole. Yeah, I have an awesome aunt.

Finding my seat again as everyone looked on in nosey curiosity, I grabbed the book out of my bag again and opened it up. Waiting until the class wasn't paying any extra attention to me, I flopped open the first of the two pamphlets called 'The Positions!'

Oh God. That was… Well, that was quite an experience. I never knew there were that many positions two males can accomplish, and trust me; I've seen some pretty crazy things.

In all honesty, it scared the shit out of me, but I would never tell anyone that.

Yep, sex, as amazing as it is, scares the crap out of me, Blaine Anderson. Why else do you think I'd kick any of those guys I use if they ever tried sticking fingers in my ass? Not cool, man - not at all.

The next one was talking about how important it was to use a condom and lube. Ha, like I didn't know this already. Tossing that pamphlet back into my bag, I paid attention to the pamphlet on positions. Sure, I knew some of the more standard or, dare I say it, mainstream positions, but others were just… Crazy. I made a mental note on which ones I'd like to try when I'm ready.

I which ones Kurt would try. I attempted to shake the thought out of my head, but I couldn't help but wonder off into dreams of him in those positions, underneath me. Wait, would he be top or bottom? Would he be willing to try my insane ideas?

Oh no.

I (painfully) crossed my legs to hide what was becoming of the situation, but my mind kept moving on. Pictures of the top of Kurt's head on me, my hand in his hair… Of Kurt in the shower this morning, the pleasure I could provide for him. I grew harder by the second, captured by my fantasies. Kurt as a Thunderbird, bringing me to the locker room at half time…

The bell signaled the end of the period and I leapt out of my seat, shoving the pamphlet and book in my bag while leaving the class.

You know those moments when someone accidentally touches your dick with their hand as they walk past you?

Yeah, that totally just happened to me. With Kurt, as I smacked into him in a hurry to leave the class and day dreams behind me.

A light groan of pleasure escaped my lips as his hand brushed against me, causing friction. I coughed, covering up my exclamation of pleasure.

Kurt looked up at me, almost flabbergasted, "Oh, hello," he smiled warmly, his hands going to bag for reassurance, clasping onto the strap. His face was red as his eyes read that he was almost embarrassed, "Sorry. Actually, I was just about to look for you. We have our next perfect together."

Oh yeah, day four. Right.

Remember my little (no, definitely big) problem, I shifter awkwardly in front of Kurt, trying to keep it a not so obvious situation. I placed snarky grin on my face, my hand going to my pocket instinctively to look for my packet of king-sized Dumauriers. Maybe after a nice, relaxing cigarette I'll be good to go. No such luck, seeing as the pack was nowhere to be found. Fuck, I think I'll just bum one off of Wes.

"Maybe a bit later, babe," I said smoothly, leaning close to him. My voice dropped an octave as I growled into his ear, "I've got some business to attend to."

And with that, I stalked off toward the doors of the building, swinging them open into the breezy October air. Smiling, I spotted Wesley instantly on smokers' hill. You see, on the grounds of this hell hole, there's this place where all smokers go to socialize and… well, smoke. It's the one place not covered in grass, so it always seemed a little scary when I didn't smoke, but now it's grown on me. Depressing, but always a place to relax from your daily insanity.

"Got a bogey?" I asked Wes when I reached the secluded area. He reached into his pocket and handed me his half emptied pack of Belmonte's. I grabbed two and tossed it back to him, shoving one behind my ear. We all have parents who are well off so it's not anything to worry about if we don't have any more cigs, we have enough money to just grab another pack.

"Why are you here?" Wes asked, blowing out smoke as he spoke. He's been a great friend to me and knows that I don't smoke often. Well, at least I thought I was a recreational smoker, now I seem to be getting more and more irritated which causes me to crave one.

Fuck, I'm addicted.

Oh well.

"I'm frustrated," I said, looking at him pointedly to see if he got the picture. He nodded, a smile playing on his face.

"Sexually frustrated?" His eyebrows raised high on his forehead. I let out a groan.

"Please don't talk about sex." I huffed, bringing the lighter to my cigarette and flicking it for it to catch the spark.

"Why? Got someone in mind?" Wes teased, the question floating in the air as I took a couple hits off the cigarette. As I finished the last puff of the cig, I flicked it out of my hand.

"Fuck you, Wes." I said, giving him one last glance over my shoulder as I walked away.

"Love you too, bro!" He yelled after me, laughing.

-x-

"Late again, Blaine Warbler?" David questioned as I walked into my last period of the day, Show Choir, late. I glanced across the council table to see Wes sitting there, gavel in hand. How the fuck did he get here so fast?

"Yeah," I said, not really taking what David just said into consideration. I bounced onto one of the leather seats of the common room with a thud, next to Kurt. Luckily, the hard on had gone away with the relaxing stick of chemicals, and sitting next to him wasn't that bad - as long as he didn't look in my bag. Not like he would anyways, "Carry on. It's just a meeting; not like we actually started rehearsing yet." With a grunt of disapproval, Thad signaled Wes to bang the gavel to continue onto the topic of sectionals.

The class was run by three students responsible enough by teachers called the council. They had the final word on everything. Almost like Simon Cowell on American Idol – everyone liked him because he was straight up and legitimate, and that is what we expected out of the council. We didn't actually get a mark in this class; we just passed with a credit. Trust me, if it wasn't for music, I would skip every class but I… I eat, sleep and breathe music. My mom has a passion for music, having talents in bass guitar, vocals and drums. Yeah, she was amazing. A pain in the ass overall, but amazing. She just… She wasn't strong enough.

-x- Flashback -x-

"Mommy!" I screamed, tears in my eyes. What's going on in there? Why is Daddy screaming? Why did he shut the door behind him? Don't they want me?

"You're drunk, Victor!" My mom screamed as I heard something shatter against the wall, "Don't do this! Get off of me!" A loud, maniacal laugh boomed from their room and I heard my mommy's screams turn into sobs. Why was she crying? I thought she said Daddy was just joking when he does this stuff – she doesn't sound like she was having much fun. A loud slap sounded from their room and I finally realized what they were doing. He was hitting her. I felt my knees give out under me as my little fists pounded on the door.

"Let me in!" I screamed as loud as possible, beginning to hyperventilate, "Mommy! Please!" The plead of mercy went unnoticed as more slaps were heard from behind the closed bedroom door. Bawling my eyes out, I pounded and pounded, begging for my Dad to stop. Dad… Was he my Daddy? Do I want him to be my Daddy? Of course I did; just not when he's like this. I don't like people hurting others. A kick was thrown at the door, probably from Dad, making me jump out of my skin. After a couple moments of silence, more slapping sounded from the other side of the door. With one last thump, giving it all of my strength, I fell to the ground in sobs, my innocent world filling with hatred toward the one man I ever looked up to.

The last thoughts that ran through my six and a half year old mind before falling into a state of unconsciousness were of Mommy's voice, softly cooing, "Courage, Blaine. One of the most important things in this world is to have courage."

-x- Flashback End -x-

A shiver ran through my spine as the memory shadowed over me like dark rain cloud. I can't think about her or what could've been. I had to stop; it hurt too much.

Clearing my throat, I made sure that the council wasn't paying attention to me before clanking over to Kurt, "So, a cheerleader, huh?" I started and watched as Kurt's face shaded to a light pink, "How come I've known you for three years I still didn't know about this… Deep, dark secret of yours until today?"

A small smile spreading across his (breathtaking) face, he shrugged, eyes staying on the council to make sure they weren't watching, "I don't know. It never came up." His face deepened to a red as he answered my question. I'm calling bull on that – we're in a school full of teenage boys, we're bound to branch into the topic of cheerleading at least one time.

"Why are you only interested in cheerleading _this _year?" I asked, truly curious. If he missed cheerleading so much, why was he only bringing it up now?

"I only heard it on the announcements this year." Once again, I'm calling bullshit because, as I stated before, those announcements sounded every year around the same time.

"Lies." I said, a smirk growing on my lips. You could tell when Kurt's lying because he starts to clasp his hands together or play with his fingers.

"Fine. I was already on the competitive McKinley cheerleading squad and went to summer camp for it. I only quit last summer." He explained, a scold on his face. Oh, well that makes sense. I never really hung out with Kurt during the summer and I remember vividly how each and every summer sucked ass because of that factor. Sure, I'd see him if it was at a party or we planned something, but usually it was a pretty Kurtless summer holiday.

Competitive, huh? So if I checked online, I'd definitely be able to see him in action. Okay, poor choice of words, Blaine.

"Why'd you quit?" I pressed, my eyebrows creased in confusion.

"I had a crazy coach - Sue Sylvester - who would do anything to win, including shoot a student out of a canon." Kurt said, shuddering at the memory.

"Crap, that's insa-"

"Blaine Warbler," Wes' voice called from the front. Rolling my eyes, I looked over to see Wes shaking his head in disapproval. He looked over to David, cueing him to continue talking. I glanced sideways to Kurt to see his face red, no longer looking at me but concentrating on whatever the meeting was about. I already knew – they wanted to sing the song When I Get You Alone by Robin Thicke and were debating on a second choice, causing an outrage of Warblers.

"Why don't we sing a cover by R5?" Jeff shouted over the screams of artists.

"Queen!" Ethan shouted, earning nods of approval.

"This is a Kangaroo Court!"

"Quiet!" Wes shouted above the riot of voices, banging his gavel. After a few hits against the block of wood, the hall shushed into silence, "Warbler Kurt," at the sound of his name, Kurt looked up from looking at his feet, "Any suggestions? I mean, you have been in the competing show choir… How were things with you guys? What kind of music did you perform?" A silence filled the room as Kurt beside me sat shell shocked from being singled out. I rested my hand on his thigh and he seemed to remember that he was being asked a question.

"Well… Everything really," Kurt began, trying to remember, "But if I know Rachel Berry, the group is definitely going to be pulling out some Broadway numbers." The finality in his voice was sharp, yet reassuring.

"Then I think it's time we fight fire with fire," Nick said from his seat beside Jeff. Seeming to catch on to whatever the council had in mind.

"Broadway it is," Jeff chimed in, finishing off Nick's sentence. They looked at each other, instantly brightening up.

"There we have it!" Thad exclaimed, clapping his hands together in excitement, "If anyone wants a solo, choose a song from a popular Broadway musical and-"

"Kurt wants to audition." I said, jumping up from my seat and raising my own hand. I don't know what I was doing, but it seemed to come to me as something that needed to be done. Everyone looked at me, appalled by my sudden need to get an input and participate. I could feel Kurt tugging at my uniform blazer to shut up, but when have I ever really listened to anyone?

"Uh okay, Warbler Blaine," Thad said, flabbergasted.

"No, I mean, he'd be great to audition right now," I said breathlessly. David seemed to be taking this into thought, nodding. He looked toward the grand clock mounted on the floor, "Well, we do have twenty minutes of class left, and if Kurt wants to, we'd be happy to have him audition now." He shrugged in content, looking at Kurt for an answer. Noticing I was still standing up, I sat beside Kurt and gave his knee an encouraging squeeze. I felt him sigh beside me.

"Well, I _did_ do a performance with my old Glee club that is worthy of an audition. It's kind of… crazy though." He started to worry his bottom lip, casting his eyes away in deliberation.

"Crazy?" Wes finally spoke up, clearly interested, "How so?"

-x-

All was quiet as we filed into the Dalton Academy auditorium and Kurt was apparently backstage talking to the techie of the school, an Anthus house student named Joey. Joey was… Well, he was a complete and utter geek who, surprisingly, embraces it with great confidence. He wore thick rimmed glasses and was also known for his great sense of style, but damn, he was skinny; to go with his skinny ties and skinny jeans. He just… didn't fit in. Well, at the Anthus house, at least. He was too charismatic to be with them.

On the topic of being a geek, as Kurt walked onstage, I felt a Star Wars movie going on in my boxer briefs – Attack of the Hormones. He texted me a while ago to inform me that he had to compromise with the costume because he left it at his house. He explained that his outfit wasn't any good for his performance, but _fuck_, he looked amazing. He walked on wearing a very flattering black button up that was rolled to show off his forearms, a grey vest over top. The black skinny jeans he wore could've been painted on and it would look exactly like he did now. Lastly, he wore white, tie up combat boots for a finishing touch.

I watched as the dancers got into their positions around stage. Us being in the arts program at this school, it was quite easy to get some dancers last minute and have them throw around some choreography. Kurt walked up a few steps on some stairs that were placed on stage, a light shining brightly on him, capturing every bit of his beauty. With a twirl to his side, his voice rang throughout the hall.

'_Bout twenty years ago way down in New Orleans,  
>A group of fellers found a new kind of music,<br>And they decided to call it… Jazz._

Le Jazz Hot – Good choice. I looked over to the warblers to see everyone entranced by his glam. When Kurt steeped onto stage, he became that part. Wait… Isn't this a duet?

Kurt started down the stairs as the double bass started and piano came about, still singing his heart out. He performed with everything he had, dancing with the choreography.

_No other sound has what this music has.  
>Before they knew it, it was whizzin' 'round the world.<br>The world was ready for a blue kind of music,  
>And now they play it from Steamboat Springs to La Paz.<em>

Suddenly, a round of snaps sounded from around the stage. This was a duet! Kurt was somehow pulling off a Broadway duet all by himself and he is killing it. He strutted back toward the stairs and as the dancers got into position, he walked through the two rows of people. Kurt owned the stage with his flexible dance moves. Huh, maybe he was meant to do cheerleading after all.

_Oh baby, won't you play me Le Jazz Hot, maybe,  
>And don't ever let it end.<br>I'll tell friend, it's really something to hear…_

I didn't just imagine that, right? Kurt was standing still as a male dancer was around him, stepped to the side of him where his body was turned to, and as soon as a few notes chimed in, he was grinding himself against the man, biting his lower lip. That wasn't even the worst (best? I really have no idea) part, though. The worst part was that while he accomplished this incredible dance move, he looked directly at me. As soon as he noticed what he was doing and that he was still Kurt Hummel, he looked away, blushing ferociously. Suddenly, my pants became a whole new kind of Star Wars; Return of the Boner. I felt myself stiffen, remembering other people were in the auditorium with us.

_When you play me Le Jazz Hot, maybe,  
>You're holding my soul together.<br>Don't you know whether it's morning or night,  
>Only know it's sounding right.<br>So come on in and play me Le Jazz Hot, baby,  
>Cause I love my jazz hot.<em>

I bounded back toward the stairs after dancing with more performers, belting that note while kneeling down on the middle step. After staying there for a second, he ran down the steps and the performers danced into two rows, creating a walkway for him. All snapping their fingers, Kurt walked down the isle as he started his last line.

_Le… Jazz…_

Kurt walked back toward the middle of the stage and disappeared behind the bodies of the performers encircling him. As he belted his last note, he was seated on two dancers' shoulders and was being brought higher than everyone else dancing around them. Soon, he was high above their heads.

_Hot!  
>Le Jazz Hot.<em>

After a good five seconds of everyone sitting in amazement, the Warblers sprang to their feet, applause filling the auditorium. Of course, Kurt, returning to his regular self, became flustered and I swear, I could see his face becoming red from the audience. As Kurt thanked the dancers, the audience quieted down and everyone looked toward the three council leaders.

"Kurt, that was fucking amazing!" Davie exclaimed, earning a discerning glare from Thad at his cussing, "If no one attempts to top that by Monday, you'll definitely have the solo." At the mention of the solo, Kurt's smile gleamed, causing a round of laughs out of everyone in the auditorium. A bell rang throughout the school, signaling that the day was finished. Everyone scattered as Kurt jumped off the stage in joy and turned to see me walking over to him with a broad smirk. Pulling close to him, I whispered, my breath hot against his ear.

"Costume wasn't as good, huh?" I growled into his ear, making sure to note Kurt's reaction as shivers. I pulled back, satisfied, "It seemed pretty fucking hot to me; especially from my angle." I explained, nonchalant, slipping my hand in the back pocket of his skin-tight jeans, "Oh, and the dance moves? You and cheerleading don't seem to be in such distant categories anymore." Kurt had definitely given up on trying to stay away from my shameless flirting a while ago, seeing that I really would never give up trying.

"Oh crap, cheerleading is after school today!" Kurt said, turning to me with an anxious look on his face. With a shrug, I slid my hand out of his pocket and slapped his ass (for good measure) as he walked away to grab his bag. He looked at me with a scowl and signaled me to follow him out of the auditorium, "You know," he began again as I caught up to him, "You have to stop doing stuff like that." He referred to me slapping his behind a few moments ago, "You've been doing it for years. People should start to wonder if we're a thing." He explained, a blush prominent on his face, "And by wonder, I really mean gossip."

"Now that's a thought – Kurt and I in a relationship. Of course I can imagine it, I have been for years, but it still seems totally unreal to me. What if he hurts me? What if I hurt him? What if it doesn't turn out the way it was planned and we end things? I can't let that happen to us. I just can't.

"Let them talk all they want," I said, pulling an arm around his waist as we walked, "They've got nothing on us."

-x-

"Kurt, if you don't hurry up out of there, you'll be late for tryouts," I said as I knocked on the bathroom door that was right beside the gymnasium. While I've been in my football attire, shoulder pads and all (and that takes a while to put on), I couldn't really say the same for Kurt. Kurt had gone in there quite some time ago to change into something more suitable for cheerleading tryouts, but hasn't come out since, "And I'll be late for football."

"Kurt Hummel is never late," He said behind the door. I sighed in frustration and hit my head against the stall door.

"Well, you will be if you don't hurry-" My sentence was ended by my gasp of a whole new kind of frustration. Without knowing it, when my head impacted the door, the lock shuffled around and I managed to unlock and open the door. Kurt stood there in a red, white and black cheer uniform with the letters _'WMHS'_ written across the chest. His top hugged his every curve and, because it's been about one year since he's worn his cheerios uniform, a small strip of skin cut between his shirt and pants. His red pant sat low on his hips, showing off a tiny bit of his V-bone with the strip of skin. To top it all off, he had a red armband high on his upper arm, accentuating his muscle there.

Sexually frustrated? Yeah, Kurt just took that to a whole new level.

"Holy fuck, babe," I started, pulling out my cockiness act to cover up how sexually aroused I was, "you're really fucking hot." A blush covered Kurt's cheeks for what seemed like the millionth time that day and he grabbed his bag, walking ahead of me to check himself out in the mirror. A gust of breath he seemed to be holding in was let out and he ran a hand nervously through his hair.

"It's not as bad as I thought it would be," he spoke to himself, turning around for a view of his bottom in the mirror. He started toward the door and left the bathroom as I scurried to follow close behind him, "Bad? Kurt, you look incredible."

"Blaine, you don't have to lie like that-"

"Kurt?" A voice called from the gym doors and Kurt's head snapped around at the sound of his name being called. It was the blonde gym teacher of Crawford Country Day. How did she know him?

"Ms. Holiday?" I watched as Kurt's eyes widened at the teacher. What am I missing here? Excitedly, Kurt ran over and hugged the teacher, "What are you doing here?"

"I coach the Thunderbirds, what do you mean what am I doing here?" She asked, hugging back, "What are you doing here?"

"I go to Dalton! What about Cleveland?" Kurt asked, pulling away from the hug to look at her.

"Ugh, that was only for a month and it was so _boring,_" she explained as her eyes trailed toward me, a smirk falling in place, "Who's the babe? Oh fuck- Sorry, not supposed to be swearing in front of the students," She looked off, trying to get back onto track of what she was going to say, "Oh! I need to talk to you about Sue Sylvester…" Oh yeah, Sue! That's the crazy coach Kurt was talking about earlier today.

"Oh God, what now?" And with that, Kurt gave me a shy nod of goodbye and left in deep conversation with Ms. Holiday.

Throughout the whole practice, I couldn't get my mind off of one thing – Kurt's voice ringing through my head.

"_Blaine, you don't have to lie like that." _Lie? How could I ever lie about someone so perfect in my eyes? How could I even dream about thinking of Kurt as anything less than beautiful?

As soon as we finished up, we put away the equipment and I headed toward the gymnasium. Kurt was talking to a few other girls in Thunderbird uniforms, laughing about. I headed toward them, shaking the sweat droplets from my unkempt hair.

"Ladies," I said, nodding at the girls in hello. They were both beautiful ladies – one Latina, the other blonde. I couldn't help but noticed that they were linked by the pinkies. Wait, I know those faces… Oh! "Santana? Brittany? I haven't seen you guys in years! What are you guys doing here?

"Blaine, please tell me you've changed your mind about being gay," Santana bit her bottom lip, ignoring my question while taking in my attire, "Because I can see how much you've grown." She said, eyeing my crotch area.

"Is your offer still on the table?" I joked, earning a slap on the arm from Kurt. Chuckling, I snaked a hand around Kurt's waist, "Sorry, sweetie. I still don't play for your team."

"Yeah, Santana, Blaine plays football for Dalton Academy, remember?" Brittany explained, pointing out my uniform. Wait… Then, why are they in the Dalton Academy cheer uniforms?

"Blaine," Kurt started, laughing as he pulled away from my arms, "This is Santana and Brittany from my old school, McKinley." There was a weird connection with the two girls that Kurt seemed to have; I really couldn't put my finger on it, "Turns out, Sue Sylvester found out about the small amount of students who were trying out for cheerleading at this school and, because she wanted me back on the team, she somehow… _persuaded_ the dean to let the two teams join together."

"May I ask how she persuaded our principle to let this happen? How she persuaded the _school board_ of this plan?" I asked in disbelief, wiping some sweat off of my neck with my hand. Santana scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"Clearly you don't know who Sue Sylvester is if you just asked that question," She said, focusing on her nails, "She can blackmail Obama into making Kick a Ginger Day a national holiday just so she can torment little children legally; not that she doesn't do it already." She added pointedly. I nodded; not in understanding though, because this woman sounded like a cartoon or something, but so we could get this conversation moving along.

"So, you're a part of the Cheerios again?" I asked, turning to Kurt.

"It was in my contract," He said, rolling his eyes. They had to sign a contract? Now, what the fuck is this woman smoking? "And they are all a part of the Thunderbirds." He finished, looking at Santana and Brittany. I could hear a vibrating sound as both Brittany and Santana pulled out their cellular companions.

"There's the boss," Santana chimed, "Time to go back to Lima. See you around, Kurt?" She asked, letting go of Brittany's finger to give Kurt a hug.

"Of course. Brittany?" He said, voice muffled before pulling away from the hug. He went to Brittany, only to be tackled by kisses from the girl. What?

"Always!" She said, bouncing up and down. She pulled away and linked fingers with Santana, going into a new topic, "Lord Tubbington is refusing to fix my computer because I hid his cigarettes. Can you help?" As their voices faded, leaving the gym, I looked to Kurt in question. As soon as he understood, he rolled his eyes.

"I had a phase," He sighed, pulling his gym bag around him.

"Oh please, do tell."

-x-

"So, you pretended to be straight because your Dad was spending more time with your step brother than he did with you?" Richard asked as we all sat around the cafeteria table for dinner, listening to Kurt's story as to why he was being kissed by girls all of a sudden. With a shaky laugh, Kurt nodded in response, shying away.

"It's okay, you know," Jeff said, patting his shoulder for reassurance, "We've all been there at some points in our life."

"Even if the secret wasn't about us being gay," Nick continued, "Almost all of us retreated to Dalton because of the strict no bullying policy."

"But just because now it isn't really enforced, doesn't mean we aren't accepted here." Jeff chimed in once again. These are the moments people should live for – Moments of comfort and friendship. It makes my heart clench to know that they'll always be behind me no matter what.

But then again, my parents were supposed to be that source of love for me, as well. Look how that turned out. They all ditched me to fend for myself. But I would never ditch Kurt for the love of me.

A comfortable silence filled the air as everyone went back to their respectable conversations.

"So…" I started awkwardly, draping an arm around Kurt's chair, "You and the blonde cheer teacher?"

"Oh!" Kurt instantly brightened up, laughing casually, "Holly Holiday. Yeah, she's just awesome. She supplied for our Glee Club (after my convincing) and she kinda taught us about -" He cut himself off instantly, blushing. Well, you can't really rethink your words, Hummel; not now, when they're out in the open.

"Taught us about…? What were you going to say?" I urged him on, "You can't really tell me _that_ was the end of your sentence, right?"

"Uh…" Kurt started again, hiding his flushed face from me, "She taught us about Spanish."

"Spanish? Really?" I asked incredulously, "And you were blushing because…? Kurt, lying is definitely not a good habit to pick up on." Ha, I would know.

"Sex." He blurted, his face tomato red. A large smirk appeared my face.

"Finally, you agree to my proposition. So, my bed or yours?" I chuckled as Kurt gasped, throwing a slap to my shoulder. I threw my hands up in defeat, "Kidding! What about it?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. Kurt is being a little absurd. I looked around to see that most of the tables surrounding us were nearly empty, besides the few stray students still munching on food while studying. Damn, it was that late already?

"Ms. Holiday taught us about sex – through song, of course. It was the same week you told me my sexy faces made me look like I had gas pains." As he carried on his sentence, his voice volume seemed to turn smaller and smaller.

Oh, that's why he blushed.

Okay, can I let you in on a little secret? I totally think his 'sexy' faces are not that horrible. I've seen New Directions singing Jump in a mattress land commercial to know that Kurt's come hither look could turn me on like a light switch. David and Wesley had an Operation Jealousy plan where I would see other guys, insult Kurt and 'go with it,' ending in me kissing one of his best friends and talking to his dad about sex.

"_Trust me, it's called reverse psychology. It'll mind fuck him," I could practically hear David's voice ringing in my ears from the memory._

"_Once you mind fuck him, it won't be too long until you're actually fucking him!" Wes chimed in, giving David a high five. Assholes – they put me through hell._ Shaking myself out of my thoughts, I spoke.

"Listen, you definitely don't look gassy when making sexy faces," I said reassuringly, rolling my eyes, "Well, besides the sexy faces you've shown me. You truly are sexy, Kurt, just not when you try so hard." Seeing that I had nothing of my interest left on my food tray, I hopped out of my chair without second thought, pulling the backpack I've been carrying around with me on one of my shoulders and dumping the food, "You coming?" I asked over my shoulder and Kurt got up to throw out his untouched food, as well. He followed me out of the cafeteria after saying his farewells to the group.

"Kurt, why didn't you eat anything?" I asked, truthfully concerned. Given, Kurt isn't known to eat a lot (his obsession with calories and what not), but today he hardly glanced at the food in front of him. In response, I got a shrug of the shoulders.

"I just didn't feel like eating, that's all." He clarified nonchalantly, giving me the side eye. Okay, he really needs to start trusting me more.

"Kurt," I stopped him as we approached our dorm room door, pulling in front of him to look him in the eye, "You know you can tell me anything, right? We've known each other for a while now. You can trust me." We stood there for some time as Kurt searched my eyes for any sign of doubt or mistrust, finally sighing after what felt like an eternity. He reached over me and unlocked the door, brushing past me and flopping on his bed.

"Remember the cheerleading practice that was held today?" How the hell could I forget when he looked so scrumptious in that uniform? I nodded my head as I shut the door behind me with my boot, "Well, Sue Sylvester was there and she pulled everyone aside, throwing everyone a plastic water bottle and ingredients to staying thin." As he spoke, I felt my heart drop. Come on, all of those cheerleaders were in great shape! How much thinner could she want them to be? "Let's just say it was a big knock down on my self-esteem, no matter if I did make it on the team or not."

"What do you mean?" I asked, throwing my bag to my bed and walking over to his, "What did she say to make you feel so low about yourself?"

"She said I had pear shaped hips, for one." He explained, rolling his eyes. I shook my head in disbelief – What the fuck? I could feel a fire burning in me.

"What kind of fucking teacher brings someone's self esteem to that level willingly?" I asked, outraged. I was pissed, but yelling would definitely not solve the issue.

"Calm down, Blaine," Kurt cooed softly beside me, a hand on my chest to settle me down. I took the hint and let out a calming breath, "As much as Ms. Sylvester really ticks me off sometimes, she was the only one teacher there willing to help me when things with Kurofsky got severe, and I will always have respect for her because of that."

Okay, this Sylvester character is the most confusing person I've ever –

"So, she's a complete and total jerk with morals." I spoke, more of a statement than a question. Kurt nodded his head after some thought toward my statement.

"Yeah, she's… She's something else." Kurt giggled softly. And within a half of a second, a light bulb went off in my head.

"You know what else is something?"

"What?"

"You." And with that, I jumped on him and began to tickle to the best of my ability. Shrieks of laughter split through the air as I tickled the sides of his waist. Unexpectedly, a hand swung, hitting me right in the nose. Everything instantly stopped.

"Oh my God!" Kurt quickly repositioned himself under me to sit up as blood drained from my nose, "Blaine, I'm so sorry! You shouldn't have tackled me like that!" _Fuck_, this hurts. Kurt quickly reached over to his bedside table to grab the box of Kleenex tissues, pulling a few out and holding them up to my nose. I chuckled, holding them so he could let go.

"What is with me and getting hurt in this school?" I grunted with a laugh to make sure Kurt didn't beat himself up for this. Kurt scowled, squeezing the bridge of my nose for me. A comfortable silence filled the air as Kurt tended to my nose bleed. I sniggered, noticing our position – me sitting on Kurt's lap, facing him, "If this is what happens every time you punch me in the face, go right ahead." And the cocky Blaine was back. With a shake of the head and a glower, Kurt struggled until he was free from my weight and leapt off the bed, scurrying to the bathroom – probably for his nightly skin regime. Quickly, I got up and grabbed my backpack, opening it to pull out the pamphlets. I accomplished placing it back to where they were found before Kurt returned. After that, I scurried to change into my pajamas.

After changing out of my uniform, the pant pocket vibrated signaling I got a text message.

_Audrey Anderson – De Leon, 10:25pm  
>Hey, you were supposed to text me, you asshole! What gives?<em>

With a laugh, I sent a reply.

_You, 10:26pm  
>Sorry! There was football and cheerleading and Warblers practice. School sucks balls right now – too many teams!<em>

_Audrey Anderson – De Leon, 10:28pm  
>Since when are you a cheerleader?<em>

_You, 10:29pm  
>Not me! Him. The guy I like is Kurt Hummel.<em>

_Audrey Anderson – De Leon, 10:30pm  
>Blaine, even I could've told you that you have feelings for that boy. Hell, the way you moped around the house in the summer time told me everything. All that was being spoken was, "I miss Kurt!" "Do you know what sucks? Everything," and, "Fuck summer, when's school again?"<em>

_You, 10:30pm  
>I… just, he means so much to me, okay? He's always there for me when I'm down.<em>

_Audrey Anderson – De Leon, 10:31pm  
>And what am I? Oh, I just took you in, you asshole.<em>

Shaking my head with a smile plastered on my face, I typed a message.

_You, 10:32pm  
>Come on, Tita, you know what I mean.<em>

_Audrey Anderson – De Leon, 10:34pm  
>Yeah, I do. I teach his French class – He's the best student I've ever worked with.<em>

I shoved my phone back into my pocket when I heard him bounce back into the room in his blue pajama bottoms and white t-shirt. As soon as he got to his bed, he opened up a few books and started working on something. I glanced over to the clock.

"Kurt, it's ten forty-two," I sighed, getting up from my side of the room and stealing the books away from him. _Mrs. De Leon, FSF4U,_ "No studying now."

"But I have homework and-"

"I'm sure Mrs. De Leon will forgive you. You need sleep because tomorrow morning, you're going to eat a grand, wholesome breakfast," I said, throwing the textbooks back over to his bag, "Okay?" I asked as I walked back over to my bed.

"Fine." He huffed as he climbed into bed, shutting off his bedside table lamp.

_You, 10:45pm  
>I know, he's incredible. But I gotta go. Night, Tita.<em>

_Audrey Anderson – De Leon, 10:48pm  
>Night Blaine.<em>

_You, 10:48pm  
>Oh, and Audrey, can you please let him off the hook tomorrow? I'm not letting him do his homework because he needs some sleep.<em>

_Audrey Anderson – De Leon, 10:51pm  
>Sure, don't worry about it, Blaine.<em>

With that, I snapped the old phone shut and through it on my nightstand table. Yawning, I climbed further into my bed and shut off my light.

"Kurt?"

"Yes, Blaine?"

"You don't need to go on any diets, you know that, right?" I whispered into the darkness, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, "You're perfect."

"Thank you, Blaine." And I swear, I could hear the blush in his voice.

…

"Blaine?"

"Yeah, Kurt?"

"Goodnight – sleep tight."

"Goodnight, Kurt."

-x-

**I really hope you like what I'm doing with this story. A little back story on Blaine was well needed and hopefully appreciated by my lovelies readers and reviewers.**

**As you can probably tell, Blaine is becoming a balanced character when it comes to the whole bad boy bravado, ****seeing as he has known Kurt for three years. Kurt knowing him for so long can only mean that he's put down his badboy!blaine act a few times and let Kurt in. They seem to be tied to the hip, so it only seemed fair that _yes, at times he can be shrewd_ but _no, he's not an asshole all the time._ In my eyes, it's not like all he wants is sex. I think he wants something more, but he's too egotistic and haughty to think about that at the moment.**

**Rachel: "I'm like Tinkerbell, Finn! I need reviews to ****_live_!"**


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